


Nonverbal

by kristsune



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, But we all knew that, M/M, Martin POV, avatar jonathan sims, elias is kind of a dick, jon using his powers, mute jonathan sims, mutual feelings but neither of them have any idea of what to do with that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 09:06:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20061490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/pseuds/kristsune
Summary: Jon has lost his voice to The Eye, but still manages to find a way to communicate, if in a way that neither him or Martin expected.





	Nonverbal

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this was absolutely inspired by [this post](https://somuchbetterthanthat.tumblr.com/post/186425985072/theres-this-theory-that-the-archivist-is-actually) but i took it in a slightly different direction.   
I also want to thank spacebeing over on spotify, who made [this jonmartin playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1Ebqa4jGT6qODN2ocuVqaF) because it definitely was wonderful to write to, and took this in a slightly more angsty direction than initially planned.  
Huge shout out to [Jesse](https://thebisexualmandalorian.tumblr.com/) and [bubble ](https://thebubbledragon.tumblr.com/) for cheering me on <3

Martin was heading to Elias’ office, who had wanted some of the personnel files for the scheduling. He slowed down as he got closer, hearing voices, not wanting to interrupt anything. Well, to be more accurate, he heard Elias. It sounded like he was having a one sided conversation. Martin didn’t think he usually talked to himself, but with the Archive’s penchant for leaving recorders everywhere, he supposed he wouldn’t be surprised. 

He was just about to knock when he realized what he was hearing. Elias was talking with  _ Jon _ . Martin couldn’t help the sharp stab of jealousy that hit him square in the chest. Jon had been losing his voice for  _ weeks _ . It had started slowly. Just using fewer words to convey the same meaning. Then one word replies. Then yes and no sounds that weren’t actually words. Then he just… stopped talking altogether. He tried over and over again to speak, but couldn’t get a single word out, except… except to record statements. Because  _ of course  _ this damn place would steal Jon’s voice, save when  _ The Eye _ needed it. 

But, apparently, Elias could just  _ understand _ Jon. (Did he hear Jon in his head? Did he just Know? Did he have to pull it out of Jon? Did he  _ hurt _ Jon?) Martin could actually admit, at least to himself, how much he missed hearing Jon’s voice. He would  _ not _ admit, was that he had been taking statements to listen to before filing them, just so he could hear it. He just… he needed to hear them, to... file them properly.

But it still wasn’t the same. Having a conversation (or argument) with Jon, or listening to him when he really got going on a subject he cared about? It was  _ entrancing _ . Martin always found himself hanging off every word. His voice just had a weight to it that Martin couldn’t easily describe, or get enough of. He sighed to himself, he supposed he would just have to manage with listening to Statements. 

It was probably about time to decide on whether or not he should actually knock, or just come back later when he heard Elias say, “You’re most ardent follower is here.”

Martin felt his face flush at that, and was about to turn tail and flee, when the door flew open, and Jon almost ran into him in his hurry to leave. Martin saw Elias with a sharp, knowing smile disappear behind the closing door. 

“Oh, hi -uh - hello...” Martin stuttered to a stop. Jon was standing closer than usual, wedged between Martin and the door. Martin would have backed off, to give him space, but he felt rooted to the spot by Jon’s gaze. His expression was pleading, and worried, and Martin may have been projecting, but he also looked sad. 

After a few moments, Jon breathed harshly out through his nose, obviously frustrated. He reached towards Martin, hesitating for just a second before gripping his wrist. Martins eyes went wide and darted to where Jon was holding him. Jon… rarely initiated physical contact. It wasn’t a  _ never _ kind of thing, but it didn’t happen often, and when it  _ did _ it was usually brief, and tended to be accidental. 

The first thing Martin noticed was how  _ cold _ Jon’s hand was. He was wearing one of, what Tim called his “old man jumpers”, which Martin thought was unfair. Yes, they  _ did _ kind of look like something his grandfather would wear, but they also looked cozy and comfortable. And Jon didn’t allow himself many comforts, so Martin was glad he would take them were he could. But even with the warm jumper, and the fact that Archives weren’t particularly cold, Jon’s hand was practically  _ freezing _ compared to what it should be.

Jon tightened his grip slightly, and dipped his head to catch Martin’s attention again. Martin locked eyes with him and found a sharp intensity, and almost a... longing there. Longing for what, Martin could only guess. Which he very much did  _ not _ do, because he knew  _ exactly _ where his mind would go, and he was  _ sure _ that was not what Jon was trying to imply. 

Jon tightened his grasp further, hard enough that Martin was positive he was going to have bruises, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jon’s. There were unshed tears, that he was pretty sure didn’t have anything to do with how hard he was clenching his teeth. 

Martin  _ gasped _ . He caught a glimpse of  _ something _ : an image, a sound, a feeling, a thought, something bigger than that, something undefinable.

_ I’m sorry. _

But it was so much more complex than just those two words.

_ I’m sorry you got caught up in this. _

_ I’m sorry you’re hurting. _

_ I’m sorry I hurt you. _

_ I’m sorry I could never tell you. _

_ I’m sorry that I never can. _

Jon released his wrist with a silent gasp of his own, breathing heavily, like he just ran a marathon. The small scars that speckled his cheeks and neck, stood out starkly against his dark skin. He had broken eye contact when he released Martin’s wrist, and was still avoiding it. Martin was still breathless himself after the connection, but physically could not stand losing all contact at once like that. He needed to gain at least  _ something _ back. So he gently tipped Jon’s chin up to face him, one of the unshed tears slipped down his cheek as he did so. Martin carefully swiped his thumb under Jon’s glasses to wipe it away. He couldn’t bring himself to take his hand away, so he just rested his palm against Jon’s cheek. It broke his heart to see how he leaned into that simple touch.

Martin wanted to give him  _ so much _ more. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t speak, it didn’t matter if he was becoming a monster, or an Avatar or whatever. He was still  _ Jonathan Sims _ , at least at his very core, and  _ that _ was all that mattered to Martin. It was all that  _ ever _ mattered to him.

“Are you two quite done out there? I would rather like to get on with my day.” Elias’ slightly muffled voice sounded through the closed door.

Jon’s eyes went wide in surprise, then darkened in anger as they flicked towards Elias’ office. He looked back to Martin, that same sadness from earlier returning. He gently grasped Martin’s wrist that was still resting on his cheek, fingers brushing the already forming bruises, and squeezed it briefly before removing it, and turning sharply on his heel, heading towards his office.

Martin was left standing there, not having a clue of what actually just happened, but realized that the sharp pang of jealousy was gone. 

“Martin? I really could use those files if I want to finish the schedule on time.” Martin had no idea how he already forgot that Elias was there, but startled at his voice anyway. He leaned down to pick the files off the floor (when had he dropped those?) and took a deep breath before opening the door to Elias’ office. He had a feeling that it was going to be a bit of an ordeal facing him after the encounter he had with Jon. But after having had it, he thought he could handle just about anything. He traced the new spiral pattern bruises on his wrist before shutting the door behind him, and felt stronger for doing so.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to stop by and say hi on [tumblr!](https://kristsune.tumblr.com/)


End file.
